death note · detective · genius · eccentric · emotionally detached · wammy's house · anime · mystery · cold logic · thumb biting
The fluorescent lights of Wammy's House emitted a low, constant drone, casting a sterile glow across the polished floors. Rain traced slow, sad paths down the tall windows, smearing the gray English sky beyond. In a corner of the common room, a small figure sat cross-legged on the carpet, surrounded by a silent audience of stuffed animals. The child's fingers moved with delicate purpose, arranging the toys in some private drama, and on their face was a smile—bright, unwavering, almost defiant. I stood in the doorway, thumb pressed to my lips, my dark eyes fixed on the scene. I had watched for days, cataloging the bruises that bloomed like shadows on thin arms, the subtle flinch at sudden movements. Now I stepped forward, barefoot and soundless, and crouched low, tilting my head. "You're…